


I've Got You in My Slice

by jive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Police, Bad Puns, Fluff, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7961578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new bakery has opened up in Officer Gabriel Reyes' part of Los Angeles. How unfortunate for Jack Morrison, the bakery’s owner and resident pastry chef, that Gabriel hates sweets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tactical Visor is Bready!

It was hard to miss the giant banner that screamed “Grand Opening!” and the groan-worthy store sign above it that read “For Goodness’ Cakes”. But even so, Gabriel would have kept on walking past. The mouth-watering display of cakes and pastries did nothing to tempt his gaze. The wonderfully welcoming aroma of freshly baked bread failed to entice his stomach. And the almost-devastatingly handsome man flipping the sign from “Closed” to “Open”... Well, one out of three still wasn’t _quite_ enough to lure him from his walk to work. But the way the man lit up at the sight of Gabriel outside on the sidewalk, opening the door and smiling -- this siren in baker’s clothing _smiled_ at him -- tipped the scales in the bakery’s favor. Gabriel could've sworn he'd gone blind for a second at how bright that smile was, and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Good morning, sir! Welcome! Please, come in!” the man greeted cheerfully. Far too cheerful for 5 o’clock in the morning. Gabriel was about to shoot him down until he spotted a small notice taped to the display case that caught his interest.

“Sure,” he replied with a casual shrug, walking inside and giving the store a quick cursory glance. It was quaint, what you'd expect a bakery to look like. Breads, pastries, cakes, anything baked that could possibly make your teeth rot filled the nicely decorated shelves and display cases. There was even a small cafe section on one side of the store for patrons to sit and relax in. Its rustic wooden tables and chairs neatly arranged along with a rather tasteful couch gave it a rather comfortably and homey feel, matching the overall atmosphere of the store.

“Feel free to look around! If there's anything you want, don't hesitate to use a set of the tongs and trays,” the baker chimed, seemingly pleased at Gabriel's presence. He stepped behind the counter and picked up a large cooking sheet of eclairs and began placing them into the neatly organized display case next to the register.

“That won't be necessary, actually. Not that they don't look tasty, but I'm not really a fan of sweets…” Gabriel replied, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. A metallic clatter was heard inside the display case, and the baker peeked over the counter and stared at Gabriel in disbelief as if he'd grown eight heads.

"Not a fan of sweets?! What kind of monster are you?” the baker asked, eyebrows raised and furrowed as if he couldn't decide whether to be surprised or appalled.

“Nah. Sweets just aren't my thing. That's all,” Gabriel shrugged. “Listen, is that sign in the window right? You give free coffee to law enforcement?”

“Is that why you came in, Officer…” he narrowed his eyes, struggling a little to read Gabriel's name tag. He fished a pair of rimless glasses out of his pocket and held them up briefly before putting them away. Gabriel pretended his heart didn't skip a beat or two at the prospect of that attractive face with a pair of glasses sitting in front of that faint dusting of freckles. “Officer Reyes? To mooch off our coffee?”

“Well, I sure as hell didn't come in for the poor customer service, that's for sure,” Gabriel shot back in irritation. “Am I going to have to ask to speak a manager?”

“If you have any complaints, you can direct them right to me, _the owner_ ,” the baker replied. After a beat, he added, “Coffee's for paying customers only.”

“And when did I say I wasn't going to pay for a damn coffee?! I was just asking about your policy, for goodness’ sake!” Gabriel snapped. Just what the hell was up with this guy? He quickly found himself taking back what he said about the baker being attractive -- the guy was grating on his last nerve. He should've never come in. He should have just kept right on walking to the precinct.

“It's ‘ _For Goodness’ Cake_ ’, thanks,” the guy snapped right back, grin on his face like a cat that caught the canary. Did this fucker just-?

All right, then.

At that, Gabriel spun on his heel and began walking right back out the way he came in.

“Wait! Wait! I was just kidding! Don't go, please!” Gabriel would have been lying if he said he felt a little bad at how flustered and panicked the baker sounded when he opened the door.

Sighing dramatically, he let the door swing close and turned around. He did have to admit that the look on the baker's face was kind of cute, though it was more amusing than anything. Gabriel raised an eyebrow expectantly, arms crossed and looking extremely unimpressed.

“I’ll tell you what, for being my first customer, pick anything in the store -- except the whole cakes, of course -- and you can have it on the house _with_ your free coffee,” the baker said, looking both desperate and defeated at the same time. “You can stop by tomorrow for the same deal -- as an apology for the poor customer service.” He offered Gabriel a small smile, slightly hopeful that he'd be taken up on his offer.

A few moments of quiet passed as Gabriel stood there staring at the baker -- who seemed to grow more anxious the longer the silence went on -- with no change to his stance. Truth be told, he was never one to turn down free food, but he wasn't going to let the other guy know that. Gabriel let him sweat it out for a bit longer before uncrossing his arms and shrugging.

“Fine, I'll take it,” he replied.

Almost immediately the baker's expression went from looking like Gabriel had kicked his puppy to looking like he had just been given an unexpected birthday present. “Great! I'll get your coffee started for you while you pick something out, then. How do you take it?” he asked, closing the display case and walking over to the rather sizeable coffee and espresso maker sitting on the other side of the register.

“Black,” Gabriel answered simply. No sugar was a given, but Gabriel wasn't too fond of having any cream or milk in his coffee either.

“I should've guessed,” Gabriel could have sworn he heard the baker murmur with amusement under his breath, but pretended not to notice. Instead, he made himself busy and walked around the store. He searched for something he felt he could stomach so early in the morning and wouldn't make him nauseated from being loaded with too much sugar.

The various tarts, cakes, and other baked goods all carefully and thoughtfully displayed around the store looked amazing, as if they'd come straight out of a magazine or movie. Impressive, but no matter how tasty they looked, it did nothing to sway his tastes. Gabriel wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't a fan of sweets. They were never really his thing; he vastly preferred savory and spicy flavors, neither of which seemed to be present in any of the items around the store. He was about to give up when he something finally caught his eye.

The look on the baker's face when Gabriel went to the counter with his tray was absolutely priceless.

“A plain croissant? _Seriously_?!” he asked, incredulous. “Of all the things you could've picked, you chose one of the most basic things in my store... Not that I'm saying my croissants are bad -- they're absolutely amazing if I do say so myself -- but if it were possible, I'd have you arrested right now! It's almost criminal how boring your taste is.”

“You really do suck at customer service. You're lucky I found anything at all,” Gabriel replied flatly, trading his tray for the cup of coffee being handed to him.

The baker said nothing, glaring at the croissant like it personally offended him as he packed it in a paper bag emblazoned with the bakery’s name and logo. He handed the bag over to Gabriel, but not before letting out a small sigh and straightening himself up. “Thank you, and have a great day! It was nice meeting you, Officer Reyes, I ho-”

“Gabriel. You can call me Gabriel. The whole ‘Officer Reyes’ thing gets old after a while, and I’m not on-duty right now,” Gabe interrupted, taking the croissant bag from the other man.

“Gabriel, then,” the baker gave a small smile, “Well, Gabriel, I hope you stop by tomorrow morning. I meant what I said about giving you another pastry and coffee as an apology.”

“Okay. And?” Gabriel looked at him expectantly, taking sip from his coffee. Huh. It wasn't half-bad.

“And what?” the baker looked utterly lost.

“I gave you my name; don’t you think it’s only polite to give me yours? Again, customer service, man…”

“Oh!” the baker laughed, scratching awkwardly behind his ear, “I’m Jack. Jack Morrison.” He held out his other hand, which Gabriel took in his own -- but not before noting how warm Jack's hand was -- and firmly shook once- twice- thrice before letting go and resting atop the counter.

“Well, Jack, I'll hold you to that, then,” Gabriel grinned, lifting his coffee at Jack as if offering a cheers. Jack returned his smile warmly, making Gabriel's heart skip another beat. It was distracting, how handsome that smile was. So much so that Gabriel just narrowly avoided hitting himself with the door on the way out.

It took no more than a few blocks before Gabriel found himself slightly peckish, coffee about halfway finished and stomach starting to growl. Gingerly, he pulled out the delicate croissant from the bag as he continued walking, taking care not to get crumbs everywhere. He took a bite, and stopped in his tracks. It was good. Like, _really_ good. He'd go so far as to say it was even one of the best he'd ever had -- which said a lot, given how picky Gabriel was in terms of baked goods.

Maybe stopping by the bakery tomorrow wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	2. Knock me down, and I'll keep baguette-ing back up.

In the end, Gabriel decided to give in and return to the bakery the next day. Free food and coffee was free food and coffee.

Jack claimed otherwise, but Gabriel was sure the only reason there wasn’t a single plain croissant to be seen in the entire store that morning was because Jack wanted to spite him. Gabriel was almost petty enough to choose an entire baguette to go with his coffee -- Jack only barred him from the cakes, after all -- however, when he realized he’d have to not only take the whole thing with him to the station, but also have to deal with it for the entire day, he changed his mind. Gabriel was not one to waste food, and while eating an entire baguette wasn’t a problem -- he could always foist it onto his junior Jesse, the human garbage disposal -- he did not feel like dealing with the questions that would no doubt be asked as to why he brought an entire fresh loaf of bread to work with him.

Eventually, he settled on a simple cheese scone, which quite obviously displeased Jack. Although he frowned at the scone, and grumbled under his breath about how only people with no sense of fun or ability to feel joy could hate sweets, Jack nevertheless accepted Gabriel's choice. He even went so far as to throw two more scones into Gabriel’s bag before handing it over along with the piping hot coffee.

“They come in threes,” Jack explained before thanking him for stopping by and going back to what he was doing before Gabriel came in.

Gabriel checked his watch. There was still some time to kill before he had to be at work, and he wasn’t really in the mood to go in early today. With that flimsy excuse in mind -- Gabriel certainly had no ulterior motives, especially none that involved Jack -- he grabbed a newspaper from one of the news racks and settled into one of the chairs in the cafe area. He could feel Jack's gaze on him for a while, no doubt curious as to why he decided to stick around. Gabriel paid him no mind, however, and pointedly ignored Jack as he took a bite out of a scone and turned the page.

Gabriel had to admit, Jack did a nice job of making sure his customers felt comfortable and welcome in the store. The somewhat dated incandescent lights above were slightly dimmed, leaving enough illumination to the store for people to see clearly as well as give everything in the store a soft glow of warmth. From behind the counter, classical music played gently over the airwaves, piped into the store from what looked an old, antique radio -- outdated in appearance only, as the smartphone plugged into it was a dead giveaway, no doubt playing songs from Jack's own library. It was pleasant, the melodies soft and soothing, and at just the right volume to cancel out the electric hums of the refrigerated display cases and the quiet hisses and burbles from the coffee machine. But it wasn't so loud that it would drown out one's thoughts or interfere with casual conversations between friends and colleagues. For the first time in a while, Gabriel found himself relaxing, mind occupied only on the newspaper in front of him and the flavors in his mouth -- the richness of the coffee bringing out the bursts of cheese in each bite of his scone.

Even the few odd customers coming and going from the store did little to distract Gabriel, and it was only after he finished his last scone and the last few sips of coffee going cold did he realize he killed nearly a half hour just by sitting and reading. When he got up to throw his trash away, gulping down the last bits of his coffee as he pushed his chair in, Jack called him over, motioning for Gabriel to give him his empty coffee cup.

“So, I gotta ask… why do you hate sweets so much? Did you get beat up by a wedding cake as a child or…” Jack asked, glancing up at Gabriel briefly as he refilled Gabriel's cup with fresh coffee from the carafe.

“No, but a cream puff did break my sister’s heart on her prom night,” Gabriel answered dryly.

“That's a pretty _half-baked_ excuse, don't you think?” Jack joked, chuckling to himself despite the unimpressed look Gabriel gave him. “Seriously. I’m really curious! ...Is it because you're a diabetic?”

“If I was, I probably would've keeled over from just walking in,” Gabriel retorted, gesturing at the shelves of cakes, tarts, and danishes standing five feet away from the entrance. If Gabriel had a way of gesturing to the almost sickeningly sweet smells of French Vanilla and sugar cookies that hung in the air without looking like an utter fool, he would've done that too.

“Hey, you've already seen and tasted for yourself that not everything in my store is made with sugar. I'll have you know I _do_ make Diabetic-friendly options too,” Jack said, holding up several cards in a fan. “Gluten-free Pumpkin Spice Muffins, gluten-free Brownies, Black Forest Mousse Cake, Angel Food Cupcakes, and Blueberry-Lemon Cheesecake Bars. And those are just today's options outside those scones you put away.”

Gabriel snorted as he brought the coffee to his mouth. It was considerate of Jack to make those things, and no doubt a good move in terms of broadening a customer base, though Gabriel couldn't help but be amused. He took a sip before pointing out,  “Gluten-free items in a patisserie. That makes about as much sense as a Vegan-friendly Burger at a steakhouse.”

“Better than having nothing at all to offer except water, tea, and black coffee,” Jack responded, taking his finished cards and putting them in their proper places around the store.

“True,” Gabriel shrugged, giving his watch a glance once more. Ten minutes until his shift started. He offered Jack a quick goodbye before he made his way out.

“Thanks for coming, see you tomorrow!” Jack called out from the cafe area, having moved there to wipe down the table where Gabriel had been sitting.

“What makes you think I'll be coming here tomorrow?”

“Because coffee’s for paying customers only.”

Gabriel scoffed, unable to help the small smile from showing on his face. “I could just go to the donut shop two blocks from the precinct like I usually do. Theirs is cheaper.”

“Yeah, but mine’s better,” Jack boasted, expression smug as placed his hands on his hips and straightened his spine. It was true, to be honest. While the store owners were nice people and even went so far as to create a savory doughnut -- cheddar, jalapeño and green onion, which was absolutely fan-fucking-tastic -- and add it to the menu at Gabriel's behest, Gabriel couldn't deny that their coffee was god-awful. On the best of days, it tasted like watered down coffee grounds. On the worst, boiled dirt that had been scraped off a burnt shoe. Gabriel shuddered inwardly at the memory before Jack went on to add, “Plus, I’ll have something for you.”

“Thought you said coffee's for paying customers only.”

“It is.”

“So…you're going to make me pay for my own surprise? One I probably don’t even want? That's pretty messed up.”

“You'll see when you come back tomorrow,” Jack replied with a finality that left Gabriel with no room to argue. He grinned, still just as smug as before, and went back to wiping down the table, no longer paying Gabriel any attention even as the bell signaled his leave. Gabriel could swear he heard Jack humming cheerfully just as the door swung closed behind him.

Gabriel made it to the station with a minute to spare, and barely took two steps into the break room before he wanted to turn on his heel and head straight to his desk.

“Morning, boss! ...Hey, ain't that from the new bakery place near the park?” Jesse asked, pointing at the logo printed on Gabriel's coffee cup. Sometimes Gabriel really hated how observant Jesse could be. Quickly, he finished off the last remaining bits of coffee before rinsing the cup out in the sink and tossing it into the recycling bin.

“Ooh, you mean the one with actual chorley cakes and run by that really cute blond hottie?” Lena stuck her head in the room, eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas morning. Lena always did have an addiction to office gossip, and it shouldn't have surprised Gabriel that this was no exception. He did wonder how on earth she was able to overhear what was going on in the breakroom, however. Wasn't she talking with the Chief in her office not two seconds ago?

“What the fuck is a ‘chorley cake’?” Gabriel asked, pointedly ignoring the latter half of Lena’s question. He glanced over at Jesse, who had no answer for him save for a shrug of confusion.

“And how do you even know about it? It only just opened yesterday! You don't even live in the neighborhood and it's completely out of your way to and from work,” Gabriel pointed out, frowning.

“Oh! I was there on the day of the Grand Opening! Winston was looking a little antsy, so I took him for a walk in the park. Imagine my surprise when I saw that that there was a new pastry shop in the neighborhood and it had some of my favorites my grandmum used to make for me when I was little!” Lena answered cheerfully.

“Yeah, yeah, just like yer granny used to make. Got it,” Jesse shrugged, sounding more annoyed with Lena's comments than anything. “Anyway, back to the more important question: boss, why were you in there? Doncha hate sweets? You finally come around?”

“Ooh! I bet he went in because he spotted something else he found ‘tasty’... You did say there was a cute blond, right?” Liao joked as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The quiet snickers from the three annoyances, along with the sly looks on their face made Gabriel almost want to sock them all in the jaw and lock them in a holding cell for the rest of the day. Since Gabriel knew better than to take the bait, he instead left the kitchen without a word.

Though he'd rather eat an entire bag of sugar than admit it, Gabriel looked forward to seeing just what mysterious surprise Jack had in store for him tomorrow.


	3. What Are Tiramis-You Looking At?

It was unfortunate that despite in all the time spent yesterday bantering with Jack, Gabriel neglected to mention that he had the day off from work. He contemplated just leaving it be -- the petty part of him feeling like this would be his chance at revenge for Jack getting in the last word -- and just explaining himself to Jack the next day. But when he thought about how cheerful Jack looked about the prospect of giving Gabriel something that he suspected he would enjoy, Gabriel felt a bit guilty. There was no guarantee that whatever Jack wanted to give him would last longer than a day, or if Jack would still be willing to offer it to Gabriel after having been stood up.

Sighing, Gabriel decided that he’d go see Jack after all. To be polite and friendly. Because he was clearly new to the area. Not for any other reason, of course.

Per usual on his days off, Gabriel slept in until around 7 o’clock, when his body’s internal clock began screaming at him for being late to work. He woke up with bleary eyes, stretching as he sat up and let out a huge yawn. Were he a more irresponsible person, he would’ve given in to the urge to just flop back down and sleep a bit longer, forgoing usual his morning jog around the park before he started his typical errands. But he wasn’t. Gabriel was a good boy, and begrudgingly got dressed. Before he left his apartment, he remembered to throw on a black hoodie over top his usual tank and sweatpants; though technically he was clothed, Jack probably wouldn’t appreciate him coming into the store all sweaty and gross. The hoodie would at least cover him up.

Gabriel was certainly surprised when he tried to make a quick stop by Jack’s store before he started his run. It was bustling with so much activity that there was even a line so long that it went out the door. So far as Gabriel could tell, the customers were mostly women -- teenagers making up the visible majority, though there were also many seemingly in their early-to-mid twenties, with a few older women here and there as well -- all looking very excited and very eager to get inside. Having seen no more than five or six customers between his first visit to the store and his slightly extended stay yesterday, Gabriel was at an utter loss for words at the sight of so many people.

He caught one of the older women in line not-so-subtly staring at him from the corner of her eye as she tightened her hold on the little boy in her arms -- her son, no doubt. Gabriel felt his mood start to cloud in response to the hostility. Gabriel recognized the look in the lady’s eyes; it was the look of someone who disapproved of him. Someone who found him suspicious and untrustworthy. Gabriel hated getting that look from people; everyone was always quick to judge him just by looks alone. So what if everyone lined up for Jack’s bakery were all women and Gabriel was as far from one as he could be? So what if he didn’t look like the kind of person that would be interested in buying goods from a patisserie (ignoring the fact that Gabriel really _wasn’t_ that kind of person)? So what if Gabriel was only here because he actually found Jack to be a pretty cool guy that he wanted to hang out with? So. _What?_

Gabriel fought the urge to stare right back at her, to look her in the eye and dare her to say something about his presence. But he knew, from experience -- to say the very least -- that there was no point in wasting energy on something so trivial and pointless, as it would likely only make him more irritated in the long run. The boy little boy held none of the animosity his mother did, however, and when he followed her gaze, he did little more than stare  at Gabriel with a curious expression. Deciding to ignore the mother, Gabriel opted to make a funny face, crossing his eyes, scrunching his nose, and sticking his tongue out at the little boy who was still staring at him. In response, there was a squealing giggle and the little boy did the same in return, mimicking the face Gabriel made at him and laughing happily all the while. The mother turned and gave Gabriel an awkward smile, as if begrudgingly through obligation, before turning back around and focusing her attention to her son.

Gabriel stood there for a moment, unsure as to what he should do -- join the line or just write off his visit completely -- until he overheard the chatter of one of the younger customers near the end of the line.

“Oh man, I know this place just opened up, but I didn't think it'd be so busy! Think we'll be able to get something and make it in time for the first bell?” the young girl asked the girl with the thick coke-bottle frames next to her in line, who Gabriel could only conclude was a friend due to lack of any family resemblance between them.

“I dunno, it depends on how long everyone else in front of us takes. You're probably not the only person here with their eye on more than just the pastries,” the girl in the glasses replied, sounding utterly bored as she swiped at her smartphone. “We have about a half hour before the first bell, meaning we have about fifteen minutes before we need to get our butts moving to school. Are you sure you don't want to just stop at the donut place for breakfast instead?”

Gabriel didn't bother to continue eavesdropping any further. _Of course._ He should have figured that everyone here was trying to get something to kickoff the day. Breakfast was the most important meal, after all; and what better way to get a good day started at work or school than with a nice pastry of some sort and a smile from an infuriatingly handsome baker to go along with it? Figuring he'd have better luck getting into the store if he came back later -- when school started for most students, meaning about 80% of the women in line -- Gabriel left, putting his earbuds in, and started his jog around the park.

Making a mental note to never try to come to the store during rush hours, he shuddered to think just how packed this place would be once the school and business day ended.

It was close to 10:30am by the time Gabriel returned to the store. Sure enough, the huge crowd was gone, but the door to the bakery was closed. On it, hung a sign that read “Will Return at 12:00pm”. Maybe it was best he waited until tomorrow to see Jack after all, he thought, and turned to leave before he caught a glimpse of something in the window. There, on one of the couches in the cafe area, was a familiar mess of blond hair and a chef’s uniform. It was very obviously Jack, laying face up with an arm raised and his forearm covering his eyes. Even from here, outside the store, Gabriel could see that Jack was exhausted.

For a moment, he pondered on just leaving Jack alone and coming back in the afternoon, but who was he kidding? Gabriel knew the moment he got back to his apartment, he wouldn't want to leave again. He took a deep breath -- hoping Jack was just resting and not actually asleep -- knocked gently on the door. It was selfish of him, sure, but it couldn’t hurt. Jack could probably use a friendly face after dealing with so many customers.

Sure enough, he saw the person on the couch shift. “Store's closed for the moment. Sorry for the inconvenience! We'll be back open around noon, so-- Oh,” Jack’s shouts promptly cut off when he lifted his arm and saw that it was Gabriel at the door.

“Hey,” Gabriel waved at him through the glass. He heard a groan as Jack rolled off the couch, and dragged himself over to unlock the door. “Wow, if you're that unhappy to see me, I'll just go,” Gabriel snorted as he stepped inside.

Jack said nothing and rolled his eyes, smiling in a way that Gabriel assumed-- _hoped_ , was fond.

Forget exhausted, the guy looked _wrecked_. What the hell happened? He glanced around the store, and it was just like he had expected. Except _worse_. While there were still items in the shelves and cases, there was way more empty space than there was occupied. They looked almost disturbingly barren, some baskets and trays left with nothing on them save for a few pieces of fallen fruit and flakey crumbs. Gabriel let out an impressed whistle.

“Looks like business is booming, huh? This the work of your fanclub?” he asked, motioning to the empty shelves.

“I don’t have a fanclub, but yeah, you could say that again. I mean, I'm super-happy I'm doing so well, but I didn't expect it to be _this_ busy…” Jack sighed, plopping back down on the same couch as before, slumped on the armrest instead of laying down like he had before. “You know that one episode of ‘I Love Lucy’, where she's wrapping chocolates that are coming down a conveyor belt and at first she thought she could handle it but then then the conveyor belt started moving faster and faster?”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Gabriel answered, pulling out a chair at the closest table and sitting down.

“It was kind of like that,” Jack groaned, pressing his face into the armrest. “There were just so many people. It just wouldn't stop!”

“Were you this busy before?”

Jack shook his head, looking somewhat distraught. “No! I mean, I got more customers yesterday than I did on the day of the opening, but I didn't expect an explosion like this one.”

“Word travels fast, man. I mean, I only ate two things, but your stuff’s better than all the other places around here. I'm not surprised you're doing so well,” Gabe shrugged, not quite sure what to say. Jack looked up at him almost owlishly as he spoke, and Gabriel wasn't quite sure how to feel about Jack listening with such rapt attention.

“Thanks,” Jack said. The lazy smile that made its way to Jack's face, going all the way up to his eyes, was so warm and genuine that Gabriel nearly cursed at his own heart for skipping a beat. _Jesus_. Just as quickly as that smile showed up, it faded as Jack lifted his head further to look at the store proper.

“But, man, they _destroyed_ your stock, huh?” Gabriel's gaze followed Jack's. It looked even worse than he thought, now that he saw the other side of the shelves and displays.

“Yeah, they did,” Jack sighed.

“You gonna be able to restock in time to re-open at noon? You have stuff still in the back, right?”

Jack visibly winced at the question. There was a long moment of silence as he ran the timing and numbers in his head. After a few beats, he got up from the sofa with a laugh that Gabriel could only describe as hollow.

“Nope! Not at all!” Jack answered, disturbingly cheerful. He clapped his hands together and rolled up his sleeves. “Anyway, stay right there.” Jack disappeared into the kitchen, and left Gabriel to sit in the empty store by himself. Gabriel could hear the hissing of an oven along with the clatter and clinking of pans and dishes. No doubt Jack already had the next bits of stock currently baking, and was working on churning out more to try and refill the shelves.

Gabriel began to feel even more guilty about showing up now that he realized he probably not only interrupted Jack’s much-needed break, but was also distracting him from doing his work. Speaking of which, why wasn’t there someone else here? Was Jack seriously running this place all by himself? Was he _nuts_? Just as he was contemplating how to bring up the subject with Jack, the devil himself returned from the kitchen with a plate of what looked like cake in one hand, and a fork in the other.

“Technically, I feel I shouldn't even bother with this since you stood me up this morning, but since I’m not planning on selling it until it gets taste-tested first…” Jack set the plate in front of Gabriel, handed him the fork, and sat down across from him at the table. He looked extremely pleased with himself, which Gabriel had to admit was more unnerving than it was endearing. “It’s tiramisu!”

“I can see that. But _why_?”

“So I can stop hiding the croissants in the morning,” Jack replied, as if the answer was obvious. Gabriel frowned having confirmed his suspicions that the sneaky baker _did_ have croissants yesterday, and was just hiding them from Gabriel. Jack shot him a flash of a shit-eating grin when he realized that Gabriel did, in fact, suspect him of hiding the croissants.

Awkward would have been the best word to describe how Gabriel felt when he began eating the dessert. Jack watched him intently like a hawk, as if committing every detail of Gabriel’s reaction to memory. His gaze was intent to the point where Gabriel had to pause as he lifted the first bite of tiramisu from the plate to his mouth and give Jack a pointed stare right back. Jack seemed to get the message, face flushing a little in embarrassment as he stopped his staring and let Gabriel eat in peace. He couldn’t resist, however, peeking out the corner of his eye and watching as Gabriel took the first bite.

Gabriel could count on one hand the times he’d eaten tiramisu before. While he did appreciate that the dessert wasn’t overwhelmingly sweet like most others, the tiramisu he had before were never really anything to write home about. They were good. That was it. None of them really stood out from the other ones -- except the one time Bianca, his sister, tried to make it that had ended in disaster -- and the memories of how they tasted all seemed to blend together.

To say that the tiramisu Jack made tasted ‘amazing’ would have been an insult to the dessert, to say the least. While the mascarpone was sweet, it wasn’t cloyingly so, and instead of being thick and heavy like in the tiramisu he had before, Jack’s was surprisingly light and airy, almost like a mousse. The lady fingers weren’t soggy, just the right amount of softness and give that the entire thing didn’t fall apart before it even hit Gabriel’s tongue. And the espresso. Dear _god_ , the espresso. Strong, rich, and bold -- just like how Gabriel liked it. Though the bitterness of that beautiful nectar of the gods was curbed by the lady fingers, the flavors were strong enough that Gabriel could definitely taste the coffee. It meshed wonderfully with the airiness of the mascarpone, and the semi-sweetness of the cocoa powder that dusted the top of the dessert.

If an orgasm could be put into physical, consumable form, this was probably it for Gabriel. He was actually surprised at himself for not moaning at how good it tasted. Each bite was savored, and it wasn’t until he had a few bits left and Jack cleared his throat that he came to his senses. Oh yeah. He was supposed to give Jack feedback, wasn’t he? He swallowed the bite in his mouth and cleared his throat, giving his mouth a quick wipe with his hand just to brush off any wayward crumbs.

He took a moment to think.

“This is good and all, and I won’t be surprised if you sell out of it, but uh…” Gabriel began, feeling a little bad how he was going to take the proverbial wind out of Jack’s sail.  Jack’s cheery expression had already faltered before he even uttered the last few words. _Oh man._

“But what? Is there something wrong with it? Do you think it’s too sweet still? Or too bitter? For most normal people, I mean. You and I both know you’re perfectly fine with handling things as bitter as yourself,” Jack asked, uncharacteristically anxious, as evidenced by how much much faster rate than usual the words flew out of his mouth. Gabriel was about ready to laugh at how borderline frantic Jack seemed, how his usual, barely-noticeable Midwestern accent came out in full force.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It tastes awesome. I mean it!” Gabriel reassured him, “What I’m just saying is, this probably isn’t going to be something I’ll personally buy all that often -- if at all, really...”

“What do you mean?”

“Tiramisu isn’t exactly my idea of something I’d want to eat at 5 o’clock in the morning before I head to work,” Gabriel elaborated, scooping off the last few bits of the dessert from the plate and eating it.

“But Tiramisu means ‘pick me up’, so it should totally pick you up in the mornings, right?” Jack countered, smiling all the while. Gabriel gave him the same unimpressed look as usual as he wiped his mouth with the store-branded napkin. “...okay, fine. Point taken. Guess I’ll have to find something else to suit your messed-up taste buds.”

“Not that it’s any of my business, but you should probably deal with making more stock for your store before you keep going with trying to find a sweet I’d like,” Gabriel pointed out, nodding to the storefront. “Speaking of which… Why are you so concerned with making shit for me? Bribing a police officer is a crime, you know.”

“Because it’s fun and interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone before who hated sweets, but still chose to walk into a patisserie just because they wanted free coffee,” Jack shrugged, laughing. While not the exact truth as to why Gabriel decided going into For Goodness’ Cake was a great idea at 5 in the morning on a Monday morning, Gabriel saw no reason to correct him. “It’s a nice challenge, trying to find something to satisfy a picky palate. It’s the same reason I made the diabetic-friendly stuff. Plus I’ll get to test out all sorts of recipes I don’t usually make.”

“I’m not your guinea pig.”

“Not even for free food and coffee?”

Gabriel took a moment to respond, weighing the options in his head. Everything seemed to weigh in his favor -- the only thing he could find wrong with the setup was the prospect of having to eat a new creation every now and again. Jack wouldn’t be so crazy as to try and make something new every day, right? He answered with a vague, “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Anyway, I should get going. I need to run errands, and you need to get back to fixing your store,” Gabriel stood and pushed in his chair. “Oh, and thanks for the food.  How much do I owe you?”

“I don’t know, how much do you owe me?” Jack asked right back, feigning confusion. Gabriel didn’t dignify him with a response beyond balling up a 5 dollar bill and throwing it at him. Jack laughed, tossed it right back. “No, seriously, keep it. Compensation for being the guinea pig.”

Gabriel frowned, but said nothing in response beyond a simple, “I haven’t said I’d be your guinea pig,” as he opened the door.

“That’s a shame. I’ll _tiramiss you_ being around,” Jack laughed, waving Gabriel off.

For once, Gabriel actually laughed at the pun as well, and paused briefly before he left to reply, “Wow, that was awful, even for you. _Pain_ -ful even. See you tomorrow.”

The look of shock on Jack’s face was totally worth the terrible pun, even if it did make Gabriel want to die inside for saying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Pain' is French for bread. 
> 
> [2:17 PM] **Jive** : why is tiramisu so hard to pun with... D:  
> [2:17 PM] **Jive** : Reaper and 76 have no quotes I can use with it that won't be completely mangled up. /cry  
> [2:21 PM] **penxe** : have a dramatic scene  
> [2:21 PM] **penxe** : after a big fight  
> [2:21 PM] **penxe** : gabe is sitting alone  
> [2:21 PM] **penxe** : in his flat  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : it's raining  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : he hears music coming from the street below  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : Jack is there, holding up a boom box  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : the rain obscures his tears  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : "What do you want Jack?"  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : "I..."  
> [2:22 PM] **Jive** : no  
> [2:22 PM] **penxe** : "I tiramiss-you"  
> [2:22 PM] **Jive** : i need it for a chapter title. >:|  
> [2:23 PM] **Jive** : "What Are Tiramis-you Looking At?"  
> [2:23 PM] **Jive** : ...there.  
> [2:23 PM] **Jive** : ugh.  
> [2:23 PM] **Jive** : and I can see Gabe throwing like, a trashcan out the window at Jack if he tried to do that.  
> [2:23 PM] **penxe** : Better yet  
> [2:23 PM] **penxe** : instead of a boombox  
> [2:23 PM] **penxe** : it's a cake  
> [2:24 PM] **penxe** : and it says 'Forgive Me.'  
> [2:24 PM] **penxe** : but it's raining so the cake is mush  
> [2:24 PM] **Jive** : I'm going to copy-paste this conversation and use it as end notes for the next chapter  
> [2:24 PM] **Jive** : so people can judge you as I am right now.


	4. Come at the Pumpking, Best Not Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very belated Halloween chapter. Fareeha makes her appearance!

When Ana asked him to do a favor for her — not as the Chief of Police, but as a friend — Gabriel already had a hunch as to what it was before the words even left her mouth.

“Sure, I'll help make a Halloween costume for Fareeha,” he said, taking a bite of his breakfast quiche, and not bothering to even look up from his police report. He was slightly irritated that Ana was asking him so late in the month — Halloween was only just a week away, after all — but he didn't have awards for his master craftsmanship in costume making for no reason.

He'd made some award-winning costumes with even harsher time crunches before, and given he had plenty of leftover materials at home, he was sure he could pull something together for Ana's daughter in time. Jesse could mock him all he wanted for his enthusiasm in his hobbies, but Gabriel excelled at what he did and it showed. He loved every minute he poured into making costumes, be they for him or for someone else.

“Oh, I don't need a costume for Fareeha, Gabriel,” Ana replied, pulling the brakes on Gabriel's train of thought. “I wanted to ask if you could chaperone her to the neighborhood Halloween Block Party.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at that. He had requested to have Halloween off specifically so he could help run the party — he was one of the main organizers, after all — and hadn't anticipated on anything else being added to his list of responsibilities for that night. Not that Fareeha was that much of a hassle to take care of; the 8-year-old took greatly after her mother: very smart, self-reliant, and mature. Fareeha was a very bright girl who was very good at taking care of herself.

“I don't really mind,” Gabriel answered, “But what happened to the baby sitter? They bail on you?” He takes a thoughtful sip of his bakery coffee — now gone cold, sadly — as he listens.

"Yes. It seems Angela had plans of her own for that evening that I, as well as she, was not aware of until this morning,” Ana shook her head. “I've tried every other babysitter I had in my contacts, but they have already been booked or already have plans of their own. You're my last hope, Gabriel.”

“Well, I can’t exactly say no when you put it like that, now can I?” Gabriel sighed, though his voice was more amused than anything else. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Gabriel.”

“You owe me. I take payment in the form of your famous  _mulukhiyah _ and _kushari_ ,” he snorted, signing off on the report with a rather pleased flourish. He downed the rest of the remaining cold coffee in his cup before moving onto the next paper in his stack.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ana waved over her shoulder as she headed back into her office.

He found himself knocking on the door of the Amaris’ apartment at 4 o’clock on Halloween, dressed to the nines in his costume, and ignoring the odd stares he got from the neighbors as they passed him in the hall.

“Who is it?” he heard a small voice calling from inside the apartment. A loud thunk and a shuffle quickly followed, no doubt Fareeha was checking the peephole like she’d been taught. Good girl.

“It’s me, Gabriel,” he answered, voice clearly muffled from the pumpkin over his head.

Another soft thunk was heard, and the door opened just a crack. Sure enough, it was Fareeha, peeking up at him through the gap in the door, chain visibly holding the door from being opened all the way. He smiled a little at the way her bright, brown eyes widened at the sight of his costume up close. Clicking off the LED lights that light up his head, Gabriel took the pumpkin off with a sigh of relief, shaking his head to get some of the sweat out of his hair — “ _Gross!_ ” said Fareeha from behind the door — and grinned proudly at the awe-struck expression on Fareeha’s face.

It was always amusing how quickly she’d school her features back into a neutral expression, and she did it in almost record time. Just as he blinked, the awe was gone and the door clicked shut. He heard more shuffling from inside, the chain slide out of place, and the clacking of the lock being turned. The door swung open, and there Fareeha was, posing proudly in her Halloween costume.

Gabriel clapped, ooh-ing and ahh-ing briefly as she turned around to lock the door.

“You have everything?” Gabriel asked, just as a gentle reminder. The lock clicked shut, and Fareeha swung her backpack off.

“Phone… Wallet… Candy bag…” she rattled off, taking each item out of her bag and showing it to Gabriel before dropping it back inside. “And keys,” she finished, shaking them before tucking them into a pocket of her backpack as well.

Gabriel nodded in approval and smiled. The backpack slipped back on, and Fareeha led the way to the elevators.

“So what are you supposed to be this year?” he asked, eyeing the bulky chunks of what appeared to be armor and the bright blue and yellow helmet atop her head.

“A Dassault Rafale!” Fareeha chirped happily. Gabriel winced internally, remembering that had been the kind of fighter jet that Fareeha’s father had piloted during his time with the Egyptian Air Force before he had suddenly passed away three years ago.

He wondered briefly if Fareeha knew that tidbit, but realized how silly that question was. Ana was always honest with Fareeha, and likely she was the reason Fareeha chose the Rafale in particular to be her Halloween costume. He knew Khalid; he was a good man, dedicated and loving to his family — had to be, since Ana Amari deserved nothing less, after all — and definitely the kind of man who deserved to be worshipped and remembered by such a wonderfully bright child. Gabriel was proud to have known him, even prouder to have been asked by him to be Fareeha’s godfather.

“So, why the blue and yellow?”

“Why not?” Fareeha countered, smiling. She had him there, and he shrugged in acknowledgement. “They're my favorite colors,” she said, knowing full-well that Gabriel knew. He briefly wondered if they were her favorite because they were the colors of her mother’s uniform, the colors that symbolized “protection” that flowed in her veins from both her parents, but the bell of the elevator interrupted that train of thought. Perhaps he was overthinking things; the fact that Dia de los Muertos being only a few days away marking a reminder that he and Fareeha had at least one thing in common.

“Going for first place again this year, Uncle Gabe?” Fareeha asked curiously, nodding to his costume as they stepped into the elevator.

“You know it,” Gabriel grinned, putting his pumpkin head back on, and flicking the switch to the LED lights. He did his patented maniacal laugh as if to prove a point, and felt his spirit lift again when Fareeha joined in on his laughter.

The neighborhood Halloween Block Party was exactly what you would expect a Halloween Block Party to be. Every year, the it took place in the park, and every year it was more or less the same: inflatable castles, bobbing for apples, barbecues, music, dancing, costumes, and all that sort of thing. It provided a safe space for the children to trick or treat as well, and for families to have their festivities with one another without too much conflict over whose house it was that should host and all that jazz.

It gave a sense of actual community, and it was something that Gabriel loved about the neighborhood.

“Uncle Gabe,” Fareeha tugged on his cape gently, “I see my friends. Can I go? I'll take my phone out of my bag and put it in my pocket just in case. Please?”

Before he even he could even answer, he was interrupted by a shout of, “She’ll be in good hands, Gabriel! Go have your fun, niño, I'll make sure nothing happens to Fareeha!” from one of the older women sitting nearby the group of Fareeha’s friends. He recognized her to be Leona, the grandmother of Marisol, Fareeha’s best friend, and was reassured.

He waved Fareeha off — who gave a happy whoop of joy and was echoed by cheers from the gaggle of girls — but not before throwing a, “Remember to call me if you need me. And that I promised your mom I'd have you home and tucked in by 9 o’clock.” She nodded her head in confirmation and took off, quickly putting her phone into her pocket and digging out her candy bag from her backpack.

He laughed when he heard Fareeha ask Marisol’s grandmother, “How did you know that was Uncle Gabe?”

And was answered with a very amused, “Who else would make such an elaborate Pumpkin King?”

“Thanks, Señorita Leona!” he called back, smiling beneath the pumpkin when Leona waved a laughing and dismissive hand at the _señorita_ title. He was about to start making his way to do his rounds around the park to make sure everything went smoothly when a familiar voice from a nearby food stand caught his attention. He quickly turned and made his way to the source.

“Thank you, have a nice night! Happy Halloween,” Jack called out, waving at the pair of witches who were leaving his stand, giggling between themselves all the while.

When Gabriel saw the costume Jack was wearing, he thanked the stars above that the pumpkin hid his face from the public, lest he be caught drooling. He couldn't recall a time where he ever saw Jack wearing anything but his baker's uniform, so seeing him wearing something so completely different was a nice surprise.

A very, very, very nice surprise.

The red motorcycle jacket and matching leather pants showed off Jack's surprisingly cut figure very nicely, and he struggled with trying not to stare when Jack bent down to fix the signboard that had been inadvertently knocked over by an unexpected  (but very fortunate) gust of wind. He looked like someone from a vintage music video Gabriel had seen before, but couldn’t quite remember at the moment. Gabriel blamed his brain fart on how unfairly attractive the color red looked on Jack — especially when it came to his normally beautiful blue eyes and how they not only changed to a very attention-catching crimson red, but also were now partially hidden by a pair of rimless glasses that framed them quite wonderfully — and how strangely organized the insanely long line at his booth was.

Was the moron running the booth by himself?

Gabriel groaned. Despite how cheerful Jack seemed, it was apparent that this wasn’t going to be something he’d be able to handle doing alone — not unlike his bakery — and he went over offer some assistance.

“Need some help?” he asked when Jack was finished with a customer. He ignored the angry grumblings from the people in line yelling at him to go to the end.

Jack looked up at him, seemingly confused until Gabriel became aware of himself and took the head off of his costume. He inwardly cursed at the way his heart jumped — it really needed to stop doing that, damn it — when Jack’s face lit up at seeing Gabriel’s face beneath the pumpkin head.

“Oh, Gabriel! I didn’t recognize you at all!” Jack laughed in awe. Quickly, he took care of the next customer in line, who was also too amazed with Gabriel’s costume todo much grumbling about how long Jack was taking to finish his order. “Nice costume!”

“Thanks,” Gabriel replied, feeling slightly awkward at the amount of stares he was getting. It was a great costume, sure, but he could just tell that it was no longer reason people were staring, and, instead, because how excited Jack seemed to be at seeing him. He cleared his throat pointedly, and asked once more. “So, need help? Looked like you were struggling with selling… pretzels?”

He had been expecting more bread, to be perfectly honest, but he supposed that pretzels were a lot easier to cart back and forth from the store proper than bread. They were also likely more popular and faster to sell, given their status as snack foods. But these pretzels seemed different than normal. They were a dark orange, and had some sort of topping on them.

“They’re Pumpkin Spice Pretzels,” Jack replied cheerfully, selling another three to the next person in line. “I figured it would be a nice change from bread. Plus, they were easier and faster to make.”

“Ah, I see,” Gabriel looked for somewhere to set his pumpkin down, and Jack, sensing his predicament, gestured over to an empty stool behind the counter.

“If it’s not too much of a bother, I wouldn’t mind the help. Could you watch the stand for me while I go make the next batch of pretzels? I didn’t expect there’d be so many people…” Jack laughed sheepishly.

Gabriel shrugged, “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.” He tried resist looking out of the corner of his eye at Jack when he went to help the next customer, and failed miserably. Jack beamed a smile at his direction before taking off, and Gabriel nearly dropped the customer’s pretzel onto the ground from the distraction.

And so, Gabriel spent the rest of the night helping out Jack at his booth, ignoring the jeers and knowing looks from his fellow police officers when they stopped by during their rounds. Even Fareeha helped out for a little bit, thankfully none the wiser, and easily bribed with the promise of free pretzels and some bread from Jack’s store whenever Gabriel had the time to bring her over. Gabriel would’ve felt bad for making the girl work when she could’ve been having run with her friends, but Fareeha insisted, and there was no arguing with her — she took after her mother that way, after all.

To his surprise, Gabriel had such a great time with Jack — they talked and bantered with each other, exchanging stories about their past Halloweens and their favorite family traditions — that he didn’t even realize that he had missed the costume contest entirely until Fareeha had said something. It was even more surprising that he couldn’t really find it in himself to care all that much. There was always next year, and spending time with Jack was much more fun than being made to stand on stage for god knows how long it took for the judges to make the right decision and choose his costume anyway.

The party wound down slowly until the park all but cleared around 8 o’clock. It was a school night, after all, and Halloween or no, the festivities could only go on for so long. Even Fareeha began nodding off from her seat next to Gabriel’s pumpkin head around, likely exhausted from so much excitement. He offered to help Jack clean up the booth, but was quickly shot down.

“You should probably get your daughter to bed,” he laughed, hiding his vampire-teeth’d smile behind his hands.

“She’s not my daughter,” Gabriel couldn’t shoot that comment down fast enough. So fast, even that he almost tripped over his next words, “She’s Ana’s, my boss’. I was doing her a favor since her babysitter couldn’t make it.”

“Oh,” Jack replied. Gabriel couldn’t make out the tone in his voice, but he hoped it meant something positive, at the very least. “My mistake. I shouldn’t have assumed…You just seemed so close, is all. She seems to trust you a lot.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel scratched the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to these sorts of conversations. “She’s my goddaughter too. Her dad and I used to go way back.”

“I see,” Jack replied, continuing to pack up.

“Anyway,” Gabriel squatted down to gather Fareeha in his arms, ignoring the way she petulantly slapped at his face, and insisted she wasn’t tired and could walk on her own. Even Jack laughed when she quickly quieted back down and drifted back into a light doze. “Could you, uh…” He gestured to the most important part of his costume, still sitting on the stool.

“Oh! Sure!”

Jack went over and picked up the pumpkin head and made his way over, carrying it carefully as if one wrong move would break it. Again, the warmth flared in his chest, and he was quick to quash the feeling down, ducking his head just slightly so that Jack could help put it back on.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, voice slightly muffled by the pumpkin. He turned to leave when a tug at his sleeve stopped him.

“Ah, before you go,” Jack said sheepishly, letting go of Gabriel’s sleeve. He held up a plastic bag Gabriel hadn’t seen before, and Gabriel could only watch in confusion when Jack gingerly slipped it around one of his forearms, taking care not to wake or jostle Fareeha who was still sleeping in Gabriel’s arms.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked, unable to see the bag or its contents from within the costume head.

“Oh, nothing special,” Jack laughed, “Just a pumpkin pie for a pump _king guy_.”

Gabriel snorted and rolled his eyes, “You’ve been waiting to say that since you found out it was me in this costume, haven’t you?”

“Of course.”

Shaking his head, Gabriel bade Jack a quick and quiet goodbye before he headed off with Fareeha and Jack’s thank you gift in his arms. He still didn’t like sweets, but he could probably stand to enjoy a slice for himself before he left it with the Amaris.

Jack gave it to the Pump _king_ , after all, and Gabriel Reyes was definitely feeling like a king after such a nice night.


	5. The Reaper Comes for Your Rolls!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Reaper?” he asked.
> 
> “Yeah! Reaper!” Jack got up to fetch his phone from behind the counter, and fiddled with it briefly before sitting back down and showing it to Gabriel. There, on the small screen, was a picture — a bathroom selfie, no less — of Jack with a rather peculiar-looking cat, all black save for white markings on its face that made Gabriel think of a bird’s skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After six months of waiting, here's an update for you guys. Thank you all for being so patient!

Surprisingly, despite the impending barrage of holidays, not much had changed in Gabriel's day-to-day life. As usual, he made sure to go back visit his family the day after Halloween to celebrate Dia de los Muertos — bringing abuelo’s favorite brand of _mezcal_ to drink and leave at the family altar, which he also helped with, and staying the night — as well as on Thanksgiving, when the only particular thing of interest that happened was the turkey exploding in the fryer because his brother-in-law — the husband of his oldest sister, Isabela — hadn't thawed it as completely as he originally thought. Thankfully no one had been injured, nothing had burned down, and his second-oldest sister, Carmen, had the forethought of making another turkey ‘just in case’. But nevertheless, the story was interesting and amusing enough to get a few laughs out of Jack when he told it, which made the Thanksgiving migraine worth it in the end, at least.

“What did you do for Thanksgiving? You spend it with your family too?” Gabriel asked when Jack returned to his table with a refill of coffee in his travel mug.

“Oh, no, it's too expensive and too much of a hassle for me to fly back to Indiana for Thanksgiving. Especially when I'm going to be flying back for the holidays anyway,” Jack replied, shaking his head. “I spent most of Thanksgiving at home with Reaper, before I came here to prep for the Black Friday rush.”

It made sense that Jack had the sense to prep and open the bakery to take advantage of Black Friday and all the people that were out getting their shopping on. If Gabriel remembered properly, Jack even had a sign outside the entire week before, announcing the bakery’s special hours on Thanksgiving and the day after. A part of him wondered how well it went, given the nightmare stories he'd heard from some of his fellow officers about needing to assist certain stores with crowd control — Gabriel himself was on patrol that night — and Jack had to change the store's hours to accommodate his morning rushes and allow for midday baking and restocking. How on earth did Jack manage to handle the floods of people no doubt prowling for early-morning munchies and coffee?

But as Jack hadn't looked all that much worse for the wear, and the store opened without incident the next day, Gabriel decided not to ask. He also wondered when Jack would finally get some help with the store, but also kept his mouth shut, knowing it was a rather touchy subject. As open-minded and keen experimenting with things — baking recipes and the like — Jack was surprisingly stubborn.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow and looked at Jack curiously. “Reaper?” he asked.

“Yeah! Reaper!” Jack got up to fetch his phone from behind the counter, and fiddled with it briefly before sitting back down and showing it to Gabriel. There, on the small screen, was a picture — a bathroom selfie, no less — of Jack with a rather peculiar-looking cat, all black save for white markings on its face that made Gabriel think of a bird’s skull. It was kind of spooky looking, to say the least, and though it certainly fit with Gabriel's aesthetics, for some reason the hairs on his neck stood on end and a shiver of something both strange and familiar ran up his spine.

He didn’t dwell on it for too long, and shook it off as much as he could before handing Jack back his phone. “It certainly looks the part, at least. And I should've known you'd name your cat something punny too, given how much you love your jokes. Don't tell me, it's spelled R-E-A-P-U-R-R?”

Jack merely laughed and shook his head. “As amazing as that spelling would be, no, it's not. I wasn't the one that named him.”

“Oh, you adopted him, then?”

“Something like that. You know how there are a lot of strays that like to hang out in the alley behind the store? Reaper showed up in the bunch one night — the day after Halloween, if I remember right — and just kinda… attached himself to me?” Jack shrugged. “I checked his collar to see if he had an owner, but he only had a nametag on him. I checked for a chip too, but he didn't have one of those, either.”

“Still... You sure it's such a good idea to just take in some random stray like that?” Gabriel asked, recalling some horror stories several years back about someone taking in a stray only to learn the hard way after it died suddenly that it also had rabies.

“Yeah! I took him to the vet to get a quick look at him and got him all up-to-date on shots,” Jack nodded, “Plus, Reaper is a really smart — if a little clingy — cat, he follows me to and from the store every day. Even knows how to use the toilet!”

Just as Gabriel was about to comment about how bizarre that last tidbit was, both his and Jack’s attention were drawn to the front door.

As if on cue, a loud but muffled meow was heard from outside, followed by a light scratching at one of the glass panels. Sure enough, there sat the spitting image of the cat from Jack’s picture, staring into the store as if demanding entrance. Its gaze settled onto Gabriel, and after several moments of staring without blinking — Gabriel could swear the cat was glaring at him or sizing him up — it meowed again and slapped a paw onto the glass. It turned its head towards Jack, and gave one last meow before dropping its paw and sat patiently waiting.

“Oh shit, Reaper!” Jack cursed slightly as he got up from his chair, “You’re not supposed to be out front like that!” He opened the door enough for himself to slip outside and not let the cat in, and picked it up when it appeared to meow at him again. It seemed to settle down in Jack’s arms, at least, and if the look on its face and swishing tail were any indication, it was likely purring like a motor as well.

As amusing as it was to watch from inside as Jack bounced slightly in place while petting the cat in his arms, and apparently scolding it, Gabriel couldn’t say no when Jack nodded at him from outside, beckoning him to go outside. Sighing, Gabriel stood up, taking his mug with him and hiding a few bills underneath the empty plate as payment for the food plus a small tip — something he resorted to doing after Jack kept refusing to accept more than half the normal price of his food due to his ‘guinea pig’ status — before going out to meet Jack’s new kinda-sorta-pet-slash-stalker.

“Reaper, say hi to my friend, Gabriel,” Jack said, turning slightly so the cat was facing him. Reaper gave Gabriel the same kind of soul-piercing stare as it did before, watching him silently until Jack gave it a nudging scratch behind the ear. It purred lowly until Jack’s coddling stopped. Almost reluctantly, it meowed in greeting at Gabriel. When Gabriel reached over to give it a pet, however, Reaper lept out of Jack’s arms and darted away, turning the corner to no doubt disappear into the alleyway.

“Guess he’s not a fan of me,” Gabriel shrugged.

“I wouldn't take it personally. He might just be a little _catty_ around strangers,” Jack ribbed.

“You said he follows you around though, right?” Gabriel asked, pretending like Jack hadn't made any pun at all.

“Are you trying to say I'm strange?” Jack huffed, holding a hand to his chest as if Gabriel had hurt his feelings.

“I didn't say anything,” Gabriel snorted, smirking as he took a sip from his travel mug.

“You're hilarious,” Jack replied, crossing his arms. The look of amusement on his face did nothing to help sell how horribly Gabriel's barb had injured him.

“Anyway,” Gabriel began, looking at his watch, “My shift’s about to start. I'll see you tomorrow.”

He took a few steps forward before he felt a tugging on the back of his jacket.

“Sorry. Hold on a sec,” Jack said. He let go of Gabriel and began rummaging in his apron pocket before fishing out a worn, brown leather wallet and holding it out. “This belongs to Officer McCree. He left it here last night. I texted him to ask for his address so I could drop it off, but he told me to just hand it to you. He's on duty today too, right?”

“Yeah, he is,” Gabriel replied, taking the wallet, and opening it up. Sure enough, there was Jesse's ID, the grin on his portrait even goofier than how Gabriel remembered his last ID picture looked. He tucked the wallet in his breast pocket and began to walk off again before he stopped in his tracks. “Wait. _Texted_? Why does McCree have your number?”

“He asked me for it?” Jack shrugged, “I told him I wasn't interested, and he's not my type, but he insisted. Said something about wanting it anyway in case I wanted another friend to hang out with that wasn't — and I quote — ‘a grump with a stick-up-his-ass.”

Gabriel tried to school his expression and keep it as neutral as possible, and surprised even himself when he somehow managed it. He let out a short, “Huh,” and took another sip of coffee to gather his thoughts. “I'll have a word with him later, then.”

Jack laughed, and waved his hand dismissively, “Don't tell him I told you he said that!”

“Oh, I'm not gonna talk to him about that,” Gabriel muttered under his breath. When Jack tilted his head in confusion, Gabriel simply shook his head. “Don't worry about it,” he said, giving Jack a quick wave before heading off to the station.

“Oh, okay…” Jack replied, still looking slightly confused as he waved back, “Have a nice day, then!”

Sure enough, when Gabriel got to the station, Jesse was at his desk, typing up something or another on his computer. Gabriel took the wallet from his pocket and tossed onto the desk in front of him, drawing Jesse's attention away from the screen when it thudded gently on the wooden surface between his forearms.

“Oh, hey! You got it! Thanks, boss!” Jesse laughed happily as he tucked the wallet back into his pocket. “Mornin’, by the way!”

“Morning,” Gabriel grunted. He folded his arms and frowned slightly. Unable to help himself, he went on to ask, “Mind telling me why you have Jack's number?”

The grin on Jesse's face grew even wider. “No reason! Just thought the guy could use another friend around these parts, what with him still being new-ish to the neighborhood and all!”

Gabriel tilted his head, expression still unimpressed and looking doubtful.

Jesse laughed, and held his hands up in surrender. “Honest ta god, boss. I was just bein’ friendly! You got nothin’ to worry ‘bout, anyhow. Said he wasn't interested when I first asked.”

Gabriel let out a quiet ‘harrumph’ before he went to his desk. Shrugging off his jacket, he draped it over the back of his chair before he sat down, still clearly displeased. He'd known Jack for several months now and he still didn't have his number. Granted, he stopped by the bakery at least three times a week — down from the four originally; didn't want to come off as a creep, after all — and there was no real need to have Jack's number when they met in person so often, but still...

He was briefly torn out of his foul mood when Lena walked over with a bridal magazine in hand, asking him what he thought about her fiancée’s, Emily’s, choice in wedding gown.

“Oxton, why the hell are you asking me?” Gabriel asked, after realizing he had spent the last several minutes looking over pictures of dresses.

“I figured you'd be able to help us narrow down what would look best with my dress, since you know fabrics and drapings and all,” Lena replied, looking at Gabriel with wide eyes as if the answer were obvious.

“Oxton, I make costumes as a hobby. I don't design dresses or work as a wedding planner! Didn't Emily hire someone to help you guys for this reason?” Gabriel frowned, gathering the various pictures strewn across his desk into a neat pile and handing it back to Lena.

“Yeah, but I also figured since you're the one that's gonna be actin’ as my dad durin’ the ceremony, it'd be nice to get your opinion, at least…” Lena answered in a quiet voice, looking slightly like a kicked puppy. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He never could stand up against that look.

Still frowning, he flipped through the stack of pictures in his hands again, reorganizing the pile after a bit of quiet deliberation, and holding it back out once again. “The top three would be the ones that flatter Emily's figure and complement your dress the best. Now get back to work before Amari catches me helping you pick out your wedding cake and yells at me for ‘slacking off’,” Gabriel turned to his computer and waved Lena off.

“Thank you!” she chirped happily. “And you don't need to worry about that! Emily and I already narrowed down what kind of cake we want.” She smiled, taking the stack of pictures, and turned to start heading back to her desk when she suddenly jolting in place.

“Oh! That reminds me! I need to text Jack and let him know what time Emily and I will be there for the taste-testing!” she exclaimed in realization, mostly to herself. With a renewed cheer, she quickly zipped off back to her desk, fishing out her phone and tapping away at it with a smile plastered to her face.

Gabriel's bad mood quickly sunk back in. Lena had Jack's number too? That was-!

He took a deep breath and shook his head. It would make sense that the Lena would have Jack’s number if he was to be the one making their wedding cake. Jack wasn't giving out his number to just anyone and everyone.

...everyone but Gabriel, that was.

Things came to a head near the end of his shift when Liao, of all people, offered to text Jack and see if he would be able to make a cake in time for the station's holiday party in two weeks. Why the heck did Liao have Jack's number?! If he recalled correctly, Liao had only ever been to Jack's bakery once, and that was with Gabriel after they had coincidentally run into each other on their day off and during their morning jog. Unless he went there again sometime after, and asked Jack for his number… which dredged up even more questions in Gabriel's already-preoccupied mind.

He left the station that night with the same contemplative frown he had that morning, internally grumbling at how it seemed everyone but him had Jack's number and struggling to figure out the best way to ask without seeming too desperate or forward. He enjoyed Jack's company, and didn't want to ruin their casual friendship just yet. Plus, if Jack were to reject him like he did with Jesse, Gabriel wasn't sure if he'd be able to set foot into _For Goodness’ Cake_ ever again.

Surprisingly, his opportunity to get Jack's number came in a way he never would have expected. When he got home to his apartment, he was met with the sight of an all-too-familiar black-and-white cat lurking outside his window.

“Reaper?! What the heck?!” he scrambled to open the window, quickly and carefully as to not startle the cat to the point where it would fall of the rather small ledge and injure itself. With a tiny huff through its nose, the cat jumped from the opened window into his apartment and skittered off to curl up on his couch.

“Hey, Reaper, this isn't your home. Why are you even here? Why aren't you with Jack? He's gonna be worried sick about you,” Gabriel scolded, and tried to pick Reaper up. He got a hiss and furry slap across the face for his trouble — thankfully Reaper had the courtesy not to let out its claws — and quickly reeled back in shock.

“Shit!” he yelped, “What the hell, Reaper?! Did you come here just to make my day even worse?”

Reaper ignored him, and curled up the same way as it did before, closing its eyes and sleeping. Or pretending to sleep. Gabriel couldn't tell, and to be frank, he couldn't be bothered. He growled under his breath and let the cat be, huffing as he left the living room to shower, make a quick dinner, and head to bed.

To his knowledge, Reaper stayed curled up and asleep on the couch until the very next morning, when it jolted right up at the sound of the apartment door unlocking. Without any sort of prompting, it darted out of the apartment as Gabriel held the door open, and even waited at the bottom of the stairs for him to catch up.

Jack was right, Reaper was a very smart cat. It was almost unsettling how smart it was. As if keenly aware of Gabriel's usual route, it led the way to the bakery, with Gabriel trailing behind it the entire time.

When they finally reached the bakery, sure enough, Jack was outside, as usual, setting up the sign of the day's special bakes. The expression on his face was more contemplative than usual, his brows furrowed and forming a rather obvious line on his forehead. Reaper meowed loudly as it approached Jack, and almost immediately, Jack seemed to cheer up at the sight of Reaper. His expression brightened up even more when his gaze landed on Gabriel, causing Gabriel's heart to skip a beat as it usually did whenever Jack looked at him like that.

Crouching down, Jack held out his arms for Reaper to leap into, catching the clever cat, and spoiling it with affectionate pets and scratches.

“How did this happen?” Jack asked, utterly bewildered. “Reaper didn't follow me home last night or to the bakery this morning, so I was worried sick something might have happened to him!” The way Jack's hands unconsciously continued to spoil the cat with affection didn't escape Gabriel's notice, and he couldn't help the small smile that crept its way onto his face at the look of contentment on Reaper’s face.

“I don't know why or how he even got there, but I found him hanging outside my window last night. Reaper didn't want to seem to want to budge from my couch at all, and I figured since it was so late and you'd already closed and I didn't have your number, I may as well let him stay the night and bring him back here in the morning,” Gabriel shrugged. Reaper opened its eyes to stare at him, as if fully aware of his white lie, and judging him, but Gabriel ignored it in favor of maintaining eye contact with Jack.

“Thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it,” Jack said appreciatively, relief written across his face as clear as day. “Like I said, I was really worried about this little guy. My apartment felt kinda empty without him around.”

“No problem,” Gabriel replied, feeling nervous about what he wanted to say next.

After a few moments, he swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered enough nerves to finally ask, “Um, in case this happens again, do you have any way for me to contact you? Like a phone number or something?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, terrified that Jack might jump to the conclusion he catnapped Reaper just to get the chance to ask for Jack’s number.

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Jack beamed. “Let's head inside so I can get yours too!” He crouched back down to let Reaper down, and with a quiet meow, the cat dropped from his arms and scampered away, slapping Gabriel's leg with its tail as it passed. ‘ _You owe me for this,’_ it almost seemed to say, and Gabriel inwardly thanked the cat for the setup.

“Sure,” Gabriel replied, trying to control the grin beginning to form on his face, and fighting the urge to pump his fist in triumph. He was going to get Jack's number, and he managed to ask without making things awkward or a fool out of himself! The urge did overtake him before he was able to make it through the front door, and with a quiet, “Yes!”, Gabriel did a small fist pump when Jack disappeared into the bathroom to wash his hands and likely dust off whatever cat hair Reaper shed on his clothes. Gabriel would later attempt to do the same to his couch when he returned home that night, only to be utterly surprised to find not a single cat hair anywhere in his apartment.

“Did you say something?” Jack asked as he exited the bathroom, tossing away the paper towel in his hands before the door swung closed behind him.

“No, nothing,” Gabriel replied, shaking his head.

Jack shot him a quick look of confused amusement before fetching his phone. He unlocked it and set it on the counter.

“I can never remember what my number is, so could you punch in yours and call yourself while I get this bread out of the oven? They're the prosciutto, cheese, and balsamic onion ones you tasted the last week and said you really liked. I figured I'd _roll_ them out this week and see how popular they are.”

“Sure,” Gabriel answered, ignoring the pun completely. He focused his attention onto Jack’s phone, doing exactly what was asked of him as Jack disappeared behind the swinging steel door. He could almost feel his heart racing slightly when entering in his number, and when his own phone rang, it figuratively soared into the stratosphere.

Finally getting Jack's number put his spirit in such a good mood that day that he couldn't even find it in himself to get angry when he got to his desk and he discovered Jack snuck two extra rolls into his bag. Nor did he even bat an eye when Jesse approached him at his desk, and handed Gabriel $5. “Jack said you dropped this in his store yesterday. It's not like you to be so clumsy, boss,” Jesse scolded playfully before walking off.

Gabriel would just get Jack again next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think by leaving me your comments either here or on [my Tumblr](http://jiveammunition.tumblr.com)! I look forward to hearing from you!


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